


i'll find your lips in the street lights

by orphan_account



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Breakfast, Clothed Sex, Confessions, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/F, Fingerfucking, First Time, Masturbation, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 17:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12347076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Hold on to meI never wanna let you goOver the weekendWe could turn the world to gold





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I recently did a 30-day writing challenge and these are a series of the prompts cleaned up and put together. Thanks to my beta for looking over it!
> 
> Title and summary are from CRJ's "Run Away With Me"

Hurley’s pulse is pounding in her ears as she runs full-tilt after the black-clad figure dashing through the crowded streets of Goldcliff. She wants to yell, to tell her to stop and turn herself in, but she doesn’t think she’d have the volume to reach her, nor the air in her lungs to scream in the first place. As she wills herself to run faster, she catches another glimpse of Sloane. Hurley sees her loping easily down the street, not even bothering to look back, and feels indignation flare in her chest. This is so _easy_ for her- running away, _getting_ away. And even now that it’s more of a game for them than something with actual stakes, it pisses Hurley off.

Sloane makes a sharp turn down an alley that Hurley knows well, and Hurley follows her. The alley is closed off at the other end, and Hurley comes to a halt, panting as she struggles to catch her breath. Sloane is nowhere to be seen, but Hurley knows she’ll show herself. That’s how the game works. 

Sure enough, when Hurley’s hands find her thighs as she bends over to gasp for air, Sloane steps out from the shadows and approaches her. She towers over Hurley, and now that she’s not just seeing the back of her head, Hurley can tell she’s wearing a bandana over her nose and mouth instead of her usual raven mask.

“Tired?” she asks, mocking. Hurley glares at her.

“You know it’s… cheating… having legs that long.”

“Or maybe you’re just out of shape, Lieutenant. You’ve been doing deskwork recently, haven’t you?”

It’s true that she has, and she had complained to Sloane about it- and with that thought, she realizes this was all a trap. She’s as impressed with Sloane as she is suddenly nervous. She’s starting to breathe normally again, though, no longer wheezing, and she straightens up. 

“I don’t know where you heard such a lie. I’m as on top of my game as ever.”

“Oh yeah? So your face is bright red for some reason other than you being bad at running?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Gods, that doesn’t make any sense as a reply but her brain still short on oxygen.

“Actually,” Sloane steps closer to her, still much taller than her even now that Hurley is standing up straight, “I would.”

Sloane keeps moving closer, and Hurley keeps backing away, matching her step-for-step. She doesn’t realize she’s doing it, though, until her back hits one of the walls of the alley, and by that point, it’s too late. She’s trapped.

(Which is to say, she can leave whenever she wants, say the safe word and Sloane will let her go, but this is one of the parts she loves, seeing where Sloane is planning on taking her.)

Sloane’s hand presses against the wall just next to Hurley’s head, and she leans down so her face is closer to Hurley’s. 

“Remember our deal?”

Of course she does. She’s been thinking about it all week. _Anticipating_ it all week. And that’s maybe a little pathetic on her part, but right now, she doesn’t care.

“No,” she says, “I don’t make deals with criminals.”

“Oh, Lieutenant.” She pulls the bandana down so it’s hanging around her neck, no longer covering her mouth. “Aren’t members of the militia supposed to be honest and trustworthy?”

Hurley laughs at that one, and Sloane gives her a disapproving stare.

“Why don’t you remind me what this alleged deal was, huh? Maybe you can jog my memory.”

“Well, if I remember correctly,” Sloane drawls, watching Hurley like a predator watching her prey, “the deal was that if you couldn’t catch me before I got away with this-” she pulls a sparkling emerald necklace from her pocket- “-then it would be mine.” She leans even closer to Hurley, lips almost touching hers but not quite, “And I’m pretty sure we also agreed that _you_ would be mine.” 

It’s the most ridiculous scenario they could have ended up in and Hurley knows this, but that doesn’t stop Sloane’s words from sparking a heat between her thighs that she desperately hopes will be attended to this time around. And of course she’s also here to reclaim the stolen jewelry, but if that takes a backseat to her pleasure, well. She’s only mortal. There’s only so much she can do.

“That doesn’t sound like me at all,” she whispers, eyes locked on Sloane’s. 

“Doesn’t it, though? High stakes, exciting chases, the opportunity to get fucked senseless… I’d say it sounds _exactly_ like you.”

Hurley is biting her lip, still watching Sloane, sure that she can see Hurley’s walls crumbling down. She wants, oh, she _wants_ , and Sloane surely knows it by the way she licks her lips.

Her voice sounds hoarse when she says, “Maybe I made a deal like that. But I _did_ catch you.”

“Looks to me like you’re the one who’s been caught, Lieutenant.” With that, Sloane’s lips are pressing against hers, _finally_ , and her teeth are dragging against Hurley’s bottom lip. She pulls it into her mouth, held gently between her teeth, and slowly releases it. Hurley feels herself melting into Sloane, arms reaching up to wrap around her neck and keep her bent over where Hurley can reach her. She traces the space between Sloane’s lips with her tongue, and slips it in when Sloane opens her mouth. Her stomach is twisting and burning and she wants so badly to be touched. 

Almost like Sloane can hear her thoughts, one of her hands is pushing up Hurley’s tunic, slipping under the rough fabric, and tracing up her side to press against her small breast. Hurley sighs into their kiss as Sloane gently kneads her breast, and then pinches her nipple. She moves to Hurley’s other breast, as she kisses her, and pulls back to whisper _mine_ before kissing Hurley’s jaw and neck. She nips at the most sensitive places on Hurley- of course she knows all of them by now- drawing quiet moans and gasps from her.

“Sloane,” she whispers, “we’re in public-”

“Really? I’d say we’re pretty alone.” And she’s right, this is an alleyway that no-one has cause to visit, unless they’re a law enforcement officer planning on getting inappropriately intimate with a criminal. 

Sloane resumes her work, biting and kissing the places on Hurley’s neck that make her whimper, as Hurley grabs at the hem of her jacket and uses it to pull her in closer. Sloane’s hand is making its way from her chest down her taut stomach and dips just beneath the waistband of her pants. Sloane has her hand in the dark hair that starts midway up her stomach, and is smirking at her.

“No panties today?”

“Why would I want to make it harder for you to, hm, what did you say? Fuck me senseless?”

She hears Sloane breathe in sharply at that one, and mentally congratulates herself on getting her flustered. Then Sloane’s fingers are dipping between her labia and _oh,_ she didn’t realize how wet she was until those fingers are dragging her wetness up to her clit and rubbing, teasingly light, once, twice, three times. Sloane’s fingers still, and Hurley has to stop herself from thrusting her hips into Sloane’s hand. She’s not going to resort to that, not while she still has her wits about her.

“Tell me you want this,” Sloane says, mouth still pressed to the juncture between Hurley’s neck and shoulder. 

“Please,” Hurley says, and feels a smile against her skin.

“Is that it? Please what?”

“Please-” she has to swallow down her pride because Sloane is very serious about this- last time they did this, Hurley refused to beg and Sloane left her wet and alone on a rooftop, and she had to drag herself home and masturbate until she was sore. “Please fuck me senseless.”

“Look who’s learning,” Sloane says, and then her fingers are moving again, teasing over her clit, and Hurley doesn’t stop her hips from moving this time. Her hands fist in Sloane’s jacket, gripping tight, and she feels Sloane sucking what’s surely going to be an enormous bruise into her shoulder. She feels warm- hot, really- from the tips of her ears to her toes, and she wants more. 

“Sloane,” she says, and hearing her name from Hurley’s lips seems to do something to her- she scrapes her teeth over her skin, biting and marking her further, and her fingers rub faster and harder. It’s good, so good, stupid good, but Hurley is feeling greedy and if anyone can appreciate greed, it’s The Raven.

“In me,” she whispers, “please.”

“Yes ma’am,” Sloane hums, sing-song, and her fingers leave Hurley’s swollen clit, trace down between her lips until they find her entrance, and before Hurley has time to process any of what’s happening, Sloane has two fingers in her and she’s fucking her hard. All of the air leaves Hurley’s lungs and her brain feels like it’s malfunctioning because all she can think of is this pleasure, this overwhelming need for more. And it’s loud- Sloane’s fingers rocking into her, curling into her, pressing against the spot that makes her knees want to give out- it feels like the alley is echoing with the wet noise of Hurley getting fingerfucked and her gasps and moans. 

It’s embarrassing how soon she comes, and it has to be a combination of her already-pumping adrenaline, the thrill of being in public, and the fact that Sloane knows exactly which of her buttons to press to get her going. When she comes, she’s got a white-knuckle grip on Sloane’s jacket as she clenches around her fingers and bucks into her hand and whimpers her name. Sloane keeps fucking her through her orgasm until Hurley gasps, “Enough,” and she slowly, slowly, slowly slides her fingers out of her. As she pulls her hand out of Hurley’s pants, her wetness smears against the skin of her stomach, and Sloane chuckles in her throat. She makes sure Hurley is watching when she sticks her fingers in her mouth, cleaning them off, and Hurley feels like she’s about to combust. 

“Mm. Next time I want you to sit on my face.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Hurley says, breathless and lightheaded and knowing full well she’s lying.

“We’ll see,” Sloane says, and turns to leave. Hurley grabs the back of her jacket, though, and pulls her back, jerking her head down to press their mouths together. It feels like ages before they pull apart, but after they do, Sloane just smirks, then turns and saunters out of the alleyway like she knows Hurley won’t chase her.

And Hurley leans back against the wall, holding the emerald necklace in her hand and not even trying to hide the sappy grin spreading across her face. Next time.


	2. Chapter 2

Sloane laughs as she jumps from rooftop to rooftop, gems clinking in the bag on her hip. The heist had gone off without a hitch, and now comes her favorite part of the evening: taunting Hurley. She can hear the halfling’s quiet footfalls behind her, but she doesn’t have to look back to know she’s far enough ahead to be safe. A few blocks away, she can see her destination come into view. It’s an abandoned warehouse that’s stood empty for years now. It’s not a hideout of hers, necessarily, but she knows her way around the place. 

And Hurley almost certainly doesn’t. Sloane whoops as she leaps between buildings, loving the wind on her face and the way her stomach drops as she jumps. Hurley is still following her, she knows. She wonders if she’s caught on yet. She probably has- Hurley is smart. A little too smart, sometimes. Still, Sloane is pretty sure she’ll still have the upper hand on this one.

She flies down a fire escape, feet barely touching the stairs, and jumps to the ground before dashing across the street to the warehouse. She doesn’t bother with the doors, but ducks around back and slips in through a hole where part of the wall has crumbled. It’s dark in here, but the dusty windows still let in some light from the street lamps outside. Sloane stashes her bag in a dark corner underneath some debris- Hurley has a nasty habit of distracting her and taking back Sloane’s new acquisitions. Stolen goods hidden, Sloane waits. She picks a shadowy corner of the room that still has a good view, and quiets her breathing. No sense in not having a little fun with this.

Unsurprisingly, Hurley comes in through the front door, shifting aside broken boards and rusted signs to push it open with a creak that shatters the dead silence of the building. Sloane is hidden in a recess far enough back that the light doesn’t reach her, just like she’d hoped. Hurley doesn’t have darkvision, she knows, and that makes it all the easier to creep along the edges of the room as Hurley moves towards the center.

“Raven,” she says, voice loud and confident, “show yourself. In the name of the Goldcliff militia, I’m here to arrest you for burglary and… well, the list is getting kind of long at this point.”

“What are you gonna do? Cuff me? I might be into that, Lieutenant.” She’s made her way behind Hurley, but she hangs back enough in the shadows that Hurley still can’t see her.

“Cut the shit. You can’t keep doing this.”

“That means _we_ can’t keep doing _this_. And I don’t know about you, but I’m having an _awfully_ good time.”

Hurley lets out a frustrated sigh as Sloane circles to the other side of her, still out of sight.

“What even is this place? Why are we here?”

Sloane is in front of her in two long steps, tilting her chin up and bending down to Hurley’s level.

“Privacy,” she says and kisses her, hard and hungry, and Hurley- gods bless her, Hurley kisses back just as hard. Sloane takes a step forward, and Hurley matches her with a step back. There’s a board right behind her that she trips over, though, and as she falls, she grabs Sloane’s collar, trying to stay upright. It catches Sloane off guard, though, and they both tumble to the ground, Sloane catching herself on her hands just before landing on the much smaller woman. Hurley makes an _oof!_ sound as she hits the ground and curses quietly.

She glares at Sloane like she’s going to say something, but the weak light filtering in through the cracked door and dusty windows illuminates her eyes and highlights her lips and cheeks and Sloane is so lost in the beauty of her that she doesn’t even realize she’s being spoken to.

“-Hey!” Hurley snaps her fingers in Sloane’s face, bringing her back down to earth. She blinks. “Are you gonna get off of me or not?”

“Not,” Sloane says, and kisses her again. She doesn’t miss the way Hurley melts into the kiss, body going just a little limp as she kisses back. As they are, Sloane is essentially on her hands and knees over Hurley, who’s propped up on her elbows. She’s got her boxed in, and Hurley doesn’t seem to mind at all by the way she’s flicking her tongue against Sloane’s lower lip.

No girl has ever kissed Sloane like Hurley kisses her. It’s something demanding and eager, soft and hard, sweet and _so_ filthy. One of Hurley’s hands comes up to the back of Sloane’s head and pulls her in closer. Her fingers twist and untwist in her long hair, and it’s a nice feeling. When they finally break apart, Sloane’s head is spinning and she wants more. She puts a hand on Hurley’s hip, slides it up, under her shirt, over her ribs- testing the waters, looking for a response. And Hurley arching up into her touch is definitely a response.

She palms her breast through the fabric wrapped around her chest, and rubs circles through it over where she knows Hurley’s nipples are. Hurley, in turn, keeps flushing darker and darker, and is making more and more desperate noises. 

“Sloane,” she pants, and hearing her name is like being struck by lightning. It knocks the breath out of her, and Hurley makes a noise like laughter. 

“You like that? Hearing me say your name?”

“Of course I do.” It’s a little more honest than she means to be, but oh. She’s good and distracted at this point because Hurley’s hand is around her wrist and dragging her hand between her thighs. She doesn't put up any resistance, just lets her hand be pulled and her palm be pressed against the heat of Hurley's cunt. And Hurley groans, releases Sloane's hand, and looks at her, expectant.

Not one to disappoint, Sloane rocks her palm against Hurley's clit, rubs her fingers gently against her, and even with the layers of fabric between them, Hurley is breathing hard and squeezing her eyes shut.

“You like that?”

“Yeah, can you…?” She's pulling at the laces of her pants, and Sloane is batting her hands away, sitting back on her knees so she can untie them with both hands. As soon as they're undone, Hurley pushes them down her hips, wriggling as she does. She only gets them just past her ass, but it's enough for Sloane to see the wet spot on her underwear. She grins and uses two fingers to trace lightly up and down Hurley's underwear as her hips twitch into Sloane's touch.

Hurley has her bottom lip between her teeth and she's watching Sloane's face intently.

“You're so cute when you want my fingers in you, Lieutenant.”

“Bet I'd be even cuter if they were actually in me.”

Sloane gives her what she hopes is her most seductive smile as she hooks a finger under the crotch of Hurley's underwear and pulls it aside. Her labia are pink and slick with how wet she is, and, in Sloane's opinion, begging for her tongue. She uses her thumb to keep Hurley's underwear pushed to the side, scoots back a little, and licks her lips at Hurley as lewdly as she can before bending down and running her tongue between her lips.

Hurley jerks under her, gasping, “What happened to using your fingers?”

Sloane drags her tongue slowly over her clit before pulling back enough to answer, “Patience, Lieutenant.”

Then she's tonguing along and between Hurley's folds, quickly getting lost in the smell and taste and feel of her- musky and sweaty and heady and velvet-soft. She moans against her before lapping at her clit, broad slow strokes that have Hurley rolling her hips up against Sloane's mouth as much as she can with her pants trapping her legs. Sloane wraps her lips around Hurley’s clit, flicking her tongue over it and making Hurley swear loudly as she gives up trying to prop herself up on her elbows and just lies back so she can tangle her fingers in Sloane’s hair.

Sloane shifts, placing a hand on Hurley’s thigh and sliding it up. When she presses the first finger in, Hurley almost wails. She keeps her lips wrapped around her clit as she curls her finger inside Hurley, and she’s bucking against Sloane’s face and moaning. As she adds another finger she hums around Hurley, who gasps. And Sloane keeps fucking her, keeps curling her fingers to hit the spot that makes Hurley see stars, keeps licking and sucking her clit and it’s not long before Hurley is shuddering and desperately humping Sloane’s face as she comes. Sloane fucks her through her orgasm, feeling white-hot arousal building in herself, and Hurley makes the most beautiful noises. 

When she finally lets go of Sloane’s hair and drops her arms bonelessly to the floor, Sloane pulls her fingers out and sits back to look at her. Hurley’s face is flushed and blotchy and she’s sweaty. Her eyes are closed as she tries to catch her breath and oh, gods help her, Sloane is so in love. Her stomach twists nervously as that thought crosses her mind. She wipes her fingers on her pants and stands up. 

“Wait,” Hurley says, but Sloane is already retreating quickly into the shadows. 

“‘Til next time, Lieutenant,” she says, thankful that her voice stays even and thankful for the darkness hiding her blush. She’s going to have to deal with her feelings at some point, she knows. But for now, this will have to do.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the third and final chapter! Sorry it took almost three months, but hopefully this was worth the wait. I love these girls and they love each other.
> 
> Thanks to stealthtable for the beta!

It’s well past midnight when Sloane finally makes it through the museum’s security system. They’ve really upped their game since the last time she stole from them- there are curses and traps all over the damn place. She creeps into the cavernous room where the rainbow diamond is on display, and she’s halfway to the glass display case when she realizes the shape on top of the case is a person. A halfling, to be exact. She curses under her breath and is about to turn on her heels and run before Hurley sees her (if she hasn’t already) when-

“Hello, Raven.”

Fuck.

“Lieutenant,” she says, voice smooth and not at all betraying her frustration and panic, “what brings you here tonight?”

Hurley crosses her legs, leaning back on one arm.

“I heard a rumor an old friend was going to be dropping by. I didn’t want to miss my chance to say hello.”

“Hello. That was nice. On your way, now.” She’s been planning this for so long, and she’s already put two hours of work in just getting around the numerous curses and protection spells cast all over the place. It can’t end like this, her going home empty-handed. She’s got rent to pay and an empty stomach, not to mention her pride.

Hurley jumps off the case, landing silently on the floor, cat-like. She walks slowly towards Sloane like she’s approaching a skittish animal, eyeing her warily like she’s afraid Sloane’s going to turn tail and run. Sloane wants to laugh at her for that, but she’s mad.

“Listen, I’m not going to arrest you unless I absolutely have to. And I don’t want to do that. Just go home, Sloane.”

“As if you _could_ arrest me.”

Hurley stiffens, and Sloane can see her eyes narrow in the dim light.

“I’m doing you a favor. Go. Home.”

“No, you’re not. Out of my way, Lieutenant. I worked hard for this and I want my reward.”

“You _know_ I can’t just step aside and let you steal this. For fuck’s sake, Sloane! I’m already giving you way too much freedom. If Captain Bane knew how lenient I’m being on you, I’d be out of a job.”

Sloane’s ears flatten against her head. Hurley’s right, of course- she’s not the only one trying to make a living. And her getting fired would mean an end to their meetings. She weighs her options quickly, trying to decide what to do. She decides on retreat, but the irritation she’s feeling leaks into her words.

“Fine. I’ll leave. I’m sure you can sleep easy knowing my landlord will kick me out if I don’t have next month’s rent.”

Hurley’s shoulders droop- just a little, but Sloane sees it. “Guilt-tripping me won’t change my mind.”

“Worth a shot, though.” She turns around, starts heading for the door. She’ll play obedient, pretend to take her slap on the wrist and just hide somewhere until Hurley leaves. 

“Are you really in that much trouble? Financially?”

Sloane’s not sure why her blood boils at that, but it does. “What do you care? You’re only here because you want me to fuck you, right?”

“No,” Hurley says, voice suddenly icy, “I’m here because I’m a fucking _cop_ and you’re a _criminal_. I’m here because it’s my _job_.”

“Yeah, and you’ve been taking that job real seriously the past few weeks, huh?”

Behind her, Hurley flushes red and glares, but doesn’t say anything.

“Later, Lieutenant. Thanks for the lesson on morals or whatever.”

“I like you!” Hurley blurts out, and Sloane stops in her tracks as her heart jumps into her throat. “I like you, you dumb asshole. And I’m trying to look out for you. You know I’m in charge of your case? I’m trying to do damage control and keep your ass out of jail. Because I fucking _like you_.”

Sloane’s back is still to her, and she feels like her heart has stopped. She wants to run away- gods, she’s not ready to deal with this, with her own feelings, not now. Not like this. All of her muscles have locked up, though, and she can’t move, can’t even turn around. 

She’s quiet for too long because she hears Hurley make a noise of- frustration? Hurt? 

“Whatever. Forget I said anything.”

“No-” Sloane hears herself speaking before she realizes she’s doing it, “-no, Hurley, wait, it’s- I’m not-”

“What.” She says, voice sharp, and Sloane feels like she’s been punched in the gut, except punches never hurt this bad. 

“I like you, too.”

Now it’s Hurley’s turn to be silent, and Sloane finally feels her muscles relaxing enough for her to turn around. She’s still fighting the urge to just run, to run before she gets punched or told that Hurley was joking or worse, that she didn’t mean it like _that_ -

She doesn’t expect Hurley to be crying silently, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, fists clenched at her sides. 

“Hey…” She steps towards her, and Hurley wipes the tears from her eyes angrily.

“Stupid,” she says stuffily, wiping her nose. “Dumb idiot.”

“Woah, rude.”

“How long?”

Sloane walks over to her, tilts her chin up, swipes a thumb under Hurley’s eyes to wipe away the tears that keep coming.

“Long enough that I should’ve told you by now.”

“Yeah,” she says, “you should have.”

“Yeah? What about you, then?”

“Since I met you.”

“Gay,” Sloane says, but there’s tears in her eyes, too.

Hurley laughs wetly and pushes her hip. “Jerk.”

“Yeah, but you _like_ me.”

“Yeah.”

Hurley has her legs around Sloane’s waist as she’s picked up, and they’re kissing, Sloane holding Hurley, Hurley clinging to Sloane. Hurley’s tears mix with hers on her cheeks, wet and salty. She walks her back until Hurley is pressed up against the display case, and Sloane kisses her even harder. She feels hungry, needy, wanting- Hurley’s lips against hers are the only thing in the world right now, and she needs more. 

“Sloane,” she gasps, breath warm and sweet against her lips, “not here.”

“Then where?”

“We can-” Hurley blushes, dark and pretty across her face. “We can go to my place.”

Sloane’s stomach twists in the best way, and she feels herself nodding. Hurley climbs off of her, holding her hand, and leads her out the back of the building. Sloane makes note of the code she punches in to open the door out of habit more than anything. They walk in silence to a semi-new, semi-nice cluster of apartments. Hurley lives on the second floor, she notes, and mentally records her building and room number. She’s learning all kinds of new things tonight.

Once the front door is closed behind them, Sloane picks Hurley up again, tongue tracing her lips this time, and Hurley doesn’t hesitate to part them. She tastes sweet, like peaches, and Sloane feels dizzy with it all. Hurley’s hand creeps down from her shoulder, over the swell of her breast, and squeezes gently. She gasps quietly, and grabs Hurley’s wrist.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah!” Sloane blurts, panicked, brain running a mile a minute trying to find a way out of this. “I just- it’s your turn.”

“Sloane, let me down.” She does, and Hurley stands on the floor, looking up at her with concern in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

She swallows, hard, and clenches her jaw. Fuck, she’s going to ruin this, going to mess it up and that’s going to hurt even worse now that she knows Hurley _likes_ her-

“Hey,” Hurley’s hand is on her hip, burning hot with the inevitability of accusations and rejection and her face is concerned and oh gods, she’s already fucked this up.

Sloane looks up at the ceiling, breathes in through her nose. Breathes out slowly.

“It’s been-” Her face is burning with shame, her stomach is twisting with anxiety, this is it, this is the end of whatever she has with Hurley- “I’ve never… nobody has ever. Touched me.”

“Do you not want me to?”

“What? No! I mean, yes, of course I do, I just- it hasn’t _happened_ before, I’m not-” She feels like she’s about to combust, to burst into flames, and she wishes she would. “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

Hurley looks confused, is looking at her like she’s speaking Goblin. 

“Disappointed by what?”

“My… I dunno, inexperience?”

“Sloane,” she says slowly, disbelievingly, “you’ve made me come so hard I forgot my name. And you think I’m going to be _disappointed_ by your _inexperience_?”

“What if I come too soon? Shit, what if I don’t come at all? What if I squirt? What if-”

Hurley laughs like she can't help herself. She pulls Sloane over to her bed- one of just a few pieces of furniture in her mostly-empty apartment- and sits her down on it. She puts a hand on Sloane’s cheek and her expression is soft. They’re almost the same height like this, Sloane sitting on the bed and Hurley standing in front of her.

“Sloane,” she says, “I promise I'm not going to run out on you just because you're a virgin.”

“Okay, well, I wouldn't put it like _that_ exactly, but... Thanks.”

“Besides, you know what I just realized?” Hurley puts a hand on her thigh, her thumb brushing back and forth distractingly.

“What?”

“I get to be the first person to make you come.”

Sloane’s face heats up, and Hurley kisses just behind her earlobe. 

“I mean…. You definitely already have.”

Hurley laughs against her skin, sending goosebumps down her arms. “Gods, I wanna make you scream my name.”

“Yeah, well.” Sloane’s brain is hazy with lust and every touch is starting to burn against her skin. “It's not gonna be hard.”

Hurley kisses her neck, scraping her teeth gently along the soft skin, and Sloane feels her heart skip a beat. She’s done _this_ before, at least, but it’s different with Hurley. She’s not rushing, not trying to mark Sloane up (though she almost wishes she would), just taking her time, drawing little noises out of her. As she trails kisses down Sloane’s throat, Hurley’s hands are sliding her jacket off of her shoulders and then dipping under her shirt, tracing over her stomach before tugging at the hem. Sloane helps her pull it off, and flushes when Hurley brushes her hair back into place. 

“Doing okay?” Hurley whispers, and Sloane nods.

“I’d be doing better if you’d take this bra off.”

Hurley _tsks_ playfully. “Patience is a virtue.”

“Patience can fuck off.”

Hurley _tsk_ s at her at her again, but slips a finger under the band of her bra and runs it to the clasp in the back. She undoes it with one hand, and as the straps of her bra slide off of Sloane’s shoulders, she suddenly feels very, very exposed. She crosses her arms instinctively, and Hurley stops touching her.

“Sloane?”

“Sorry, I’m good. I’m good.” She uncrosses her arms slowly, letting her bra slide the rest of the way off, sure that her face is bright red by now.

“So cute,” Hurley breathes, and brushes a thumb over her nipple. Sloane jumps at the contact, and Hurley kisses her softly.

“Still good?”

“Oh yeah.”

Hurley kisses her again, lips so soft against Sloane’s, and she climbs into Sloane’s lap. Her weight is grounding, and as she wraps one arm around Sloane’s neck, she slides the other from her shoulder down to her breast. Hurley’s hand is warm and her hands are a little calloused but the contact feels good. And then when Hurley pinches her nipple, it feels _good_. Different from her own hand, maybe better? Definitely better, she decides as Hurley traces a nail feather-light around her areola. 

“Wanna make you feel so good,” Hurley murmurs against her mouth, then she’s kissing along her jaw, just below her ear, down her neck, and Sloane can’t stop herself from squirming beneath her. Hurley’s mouth is warm and wet and it tickles and feels _amazing_ , especially when her tongue presses against the sensitive skin of her neck.

“Hurley,” she whispers, and she feels the halfling smiling against her. Then she’s palming Sloane’s breast as she sucks gently on the juncture of her shoulder and neck, and Sloane’s mind goes blank for a second. She makes a noise, and feels Hurley shift against her. Then Hurley does it again and Sloane realizes she’s grinding down against her. It sends a thrill through her that sparks down her spine and pools between her legs. She wraps her arms around Hurley and rolls backward onto the bed, taking the halfling with her. 

Hurley squawks, caught off-guard, and lands on her back with Sloane hovering above her. Sloane’s thigh slots between Hurley’s legs as she lowers herself down to kiss her. Then she’s grinding her thigh against Hurley’s cunt and Hurley whines against her mouth.

“No fair,” she whispers, and Sloane grins.

“If you don’t like it,” she grinds her thigh against Hurley again, “I can stop.”

“Mm,” is all the response she gets as Hurley thrusts against her leg, eyes squeezed shut. Then her hips still and she opens her eyes to look at Sloane. “It’s still your turn.”

“Yeah, but-” Her voice catches as Hurley sits up on her elbows, wraps her lips around Sloane’s nipple, and sucks. 

“ _Oh,_ ” she whispers, and Hurley scrapes her teeth gently along her skin before letting Sloane’s nipple slide out of her mouth with a pop. She grinds herself against Sloane’s thigh again, bottom lip held between her teeth, and Sloane _wants_ her so badly she aches. Every second she’s not fucking or being fucked by Hurley is torture.

“Babe,” she murmurs, “either you need to fuck me or let me fuck you because if neither one of those things happens in the next five minutes, I’m gonna die.”

“Impatient,” Hurley says, though her hips still and she slides a hand down Sloane’s sternum and over her stomach before slipping her fingers under the waistband of her pants.

“Are you not wearing _underwear_?” She says, and Sloane shrugs. “And you had the nerve to say _I_ was the one who just wanted to get fucked?”

“Can’t blame a girl for being hopeful?”

“Gods.” Hurley’s fingers trace through her pubic hair, moving closer and closer to where she _really_ wants them, “You’re awful, you know that?”

“Awfully hot is what you meant, right?”

Hurley snorts at that, and then her fingers are sliding down, slipping between her lips and dragging through the slick there. As they brush over her clit, Sloane jerks and lets out a small, _’oh.’_ Hurley’s fingers are smaller than hers, softer and slower like she’s trying to commit Sloane’s cunt to memory by touch alone, stroking between her folds, over her clit, circling her entrance. It’s teasing and terrible and _so good_ , until Hurley’s hand pulls out of her pants.

“Why,” she groans, hips still thrusting towards the ghost of Hurley’s fingers.

“I want you on your back,” Hurley says, splaying her fingers on Sloane’s stomach and smearing her wetness against her skin. Sloane kisses her again before rolling off of her and onto her back, legs spread wide and heart beating fast.

“Gods,” Hurley says, quiet and reverent as her eyes rake over Sloane, “how did I land such a hottie?”

“Sheer dumb luck?” Sloane offers, and Hurley smacks her thigh.

“I can just leave, you know.”

“This is _your house_ , dingus.”

“Yeah?” Hurley sticks her tongue out. “Maybe I’ll call the cops on you. Send your ass to jail for being a jerk to me when I’m being _nothing_ but _nice_.”

“Oh?” Sloane wiggles her hips. “You don’t think you can handle me on your own? Gotta call for reinforcements?”

“If this wasn’t such a special occasion I’d put a gag in that big mouth of yours.”

“Kinky.” The teasing grin on Sloane’s face is at odds with the way her thighs press together at the mention of a gag, but Hurley graciously decides not to comment on it- not this time, anyway. “Will you _pleeease_ touch me now? I’m being _so_ good.”

“Only because you asked so nicely.” Hurley puts her hands on Sloane’s waist and leans forward to kiss her as she undoes the tie on Sloane’s pants. She pulls back so she can tug them off of Sloane, and realizes belatedly that this is the first time she’s seeing Sloane naked. And it’s such a sight- her long, dark hair is fanned out around her head, and there’s a dark blush painting her cheeks and ears that looks _so_ lovely under her tan skin. Her nipples are hard in the cool air of the apartment, and her chest rises with each breath she takes. 

Hurley’s eyes follow the taut lines of her stomach down to her hips and to the dark hair between her thighs, and… oh. She looks better than Hurley could have ever imagined (and _oh_ , has she imagined), wet and pink and her clit is bigger than Hurley thought it would be and that’s- that’s a nice surprise. She doesn’t realize she’s staring until Sloane tries to close her legs, embarrassed. 

“What? Is something wrong? Am I too wet? Hurls-”

“You’re perfect,” Hurley whispers, and she hopes Sloane can read the sincerity in her voice and on her face. “Gods, Sloane, you look _amazing_. Can I- I really want to eat you out, can I…?”

Sloane shivers and her hips roll up towards Hurley.

“ _Please_ fuckin’ do, I want you so bad.”

Hurley breathes out through her nose and closes her eyes for a second, trying to control her arousal, and once she’s centered herself, she smiles at Sloane and presses a kiss to the inside of her knee as she scoots back to situate herself. Then she’s kissing down Sloane’s thigh, lazy and slow, biting gently the higher she gets, and switching to the other leg when she’s close enough to tease Sloane with her breath. That gets her a whine, and when she reaches the spot where Sloane’s leg meets her hip, she decides she’s teased enough. 

She starts with a feather-light kiss to Sloane’s clit and works her way down, kissing her folds without spreading them, and when she presses her tongue between them and licks slowly from her hole to her clit, Sloane makes the prettiest choked noise. Hurley moves slowly at first, trying to memorize the shape and taste of her, but Sloane is pleading for more and well, she can’t ignore a request that sincere. She focuses on Sloane’s clit first, alternating between long, slow drags of the flat of her tongue and fast flicks with the tip. When Sloane starts to grind her cunt into Hurley’s tongue, she replaces her tongue with her thumb in favor of tracing around Sloane’s entrance, teasing circles until she presses into her and Sloane cries out.

The pad of her thumb is calloused and she knows firsthand the sensation of calloused fingers against her clit, and judging by the noises Sloane is making, the little gasps and low moans, she’s enjoying it as much as Hurley does. Though the noises are maybe also due to Hurley’s tongue fucking into her, pressing deep as she moans against Sloane’s cunt, and she wants to touch herself so badly but she wants to make this good for Sloane even more. She can get off later- this is about the half-elf splayed out underneath her, pleading in a throaty voice for her to go faster, harder, please, _please_ -

Hurley loses track of time, and it could be a few minutes or a few hours but Sloane crying out her name, lifting her hips, thrusting desperately against her mouth and pulsing around her tongue, brings her back to the present and she rubs Sloane through her orgasm, thumbing her clit roughly until Sloane’s hips are back on the bed and she’s twitching and whimpering. She whines when Hurley’s tongue leaves her, and her eyes roll back into her head before she shuts them.

“Fuck,” she mumbles, and Hurley laughs as she wipes her mouth.

“How was it?”

“ _Fuck,_ ” Sloane says again, and opens one eye to peer at Hurley. “Fuuuuck.”

“Now that’s high praise.” Hurley crawls up to curl up next to her and rests a hand on her stomach. Sloane turns towards her, parts her lips a bit, and Hurley gets the message to kiss her. It’s lazy, soft and sweet, and Sloane whines when she tastes herself on Hurley’s tongue.

“I don’t think I can move,” she says, “I wanna get you off, Hurls, but I think you _broke_ me.”

“Don’t worry about it, baby. I can take care of myself.”

“Will you? I mean…” Sloane breathes out, long and slow like she’s trying to collect herself. “I wanna watch.”

“Oh, so you want a free show even after all that? Greedy, greedy.” Hurley teases, but her fingers are already slipping under her pants and between her thighs and she sighs as she rubs her clit.

“You’re incredible,” Sloane whispers, “gods, Hurley, _fuck_. And you’re so _pretty_ when you touch yourself.”

Hurley makes a noise that’s half-laugh, half-groan as her fingers speed up and oh, she’s close already. “Sloane,” she murmurs, “Sloane, so good-”

“Aw, babe, did eating me out get you all hot and bothered? That’s cute,” Sloane presses a kiss to her forehead and Hurley wants to say something about that being big talk from someone who can’t lift her arms, but the part of her brain that forms coherent sentences isn’t available at the moment. It doesn’t take much for her to tip over the edge, gasping Sloane’s name as she trembles and works herself through her orgasm. She doesn’t move her fingers for a minute, just trying to catch her breath, and Sloane is kissing her nose and forehead and cheeks as she comes back to herself. Then Sloane is tugging at her wrist gently, bringing Hurley’s hand to her mouth and sucking her fingers clean.

“Fuck,” Hurley says, distantly aware she’s mimicking Sloane from earlier. And Sloane kisses her lips, chaste and sweet, and wraps an arm around Hurley’s shoulders.

“I gotta say, Hurls, you get a ten out of ten for that. _Definitely_ gold medal material.”

“I’m expecting a trophy, then,” Hurley says, “or at the _very_ least a certificate.”

“How about a badge you can put on your uniform? ‘Number One Orgasm Giver’ and then in smaller print under that, ‘Awarded by Master Criminal The Raven’.”

“I’d rather have the trophy, if we’re being honest.”

“We’ll see. And I mean, another round might solidify that trophy for you…” Sloane raises her eyebrows suggestively, and Hurley laughs.

“Can we eat dinner first? I’m gonna need some carbs if we’re gonna do that again.”

“It’s like… four in the morning. Can we do breakfast instead?”

“We can do whatever you want.” Hurley kisses her jaw, and Sloane hums happily.

“Breakfast, then. Do you know how to make pancakes?”

“Probably. Only one way to find out.”

“Gods. I really like you.” 

“I really like you, too.”

The pancakes are a little burnt and somehow still a little runny, but syrup makes them edible and Sloane’s leg brushing against Hurley’s under the table as she keeps glancing at her with fondness in her eyes makes it one of the best meals Hurley has ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments keep me young, dumb, and full of... you know ;)
> 
> Find me on Twitter @negligibleCath !


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